CHAPTER 11 #2
First to go was Skyler. To the dulcet tunes of Shania Twain, she entered the padded paddock and climbed onto the bull with the ease of a woman used to straddling big animals.
Half the people surrounding the bull were drunk, so they were more than happy to scream their encouragement.
Victor joined by framing his mouth with both hands and shouting, “Go Skyler!” above the fray.
The bull started jerking, slow at first and then more aggressively.
At first Skyler seemed to have a good handle on it, before it thrust itself violently to the side and Skyler let out a scream as it dumped her on the mat below.
She jumped to a stand and pumped a fist as the watching crowd laughed and clapped.
When she left the paddock and returned to their group, Johnny clapped her heartily on the back. “That was a great try, cowgirl. Really put that bull in his place.”
“Victor’s next,” Skyler said, face red and beaming.
“Yeah, get up on that sonuvabitch,” Johnny exclaimed, grabbing Victor by the back of his neck and squeezing. “Let us see what you’re made of.”
“Yeah, okay,” Victor replied, pulling away from Johnny’s grip and heading into the paddock.
Sucking a breath in, Victor climbed up onto the bull, wrapping one hand in the strap at its withers.
He lifted the other fist to signal that he was ready, and the bull started.
He hadn’t a clue as to how long he stayed on because it passed in a flash.
One moment he was thinking “this isn’t so bad”, and then the bull ducked and thrust forward, catapulting Victor over its nonexistent head.
When he returned to his group, Skyler gave him a hug with a laugh. “You did so well. You lasted longer than most of the people here.”
“Did I? Felt like a nanosecond.”
“Here.” Johnny thrust his beer against Victor’s chest. “Time for a real pro.”
Some Trace Atkins song with heavy guitar started just as Johnny entered the paddock, as if announcing Johnny’s presence.
Maybe it was just Victor, but he could have sworn the crowd quieted as he climbed up onto the bull.
He spent a few seconds really securing his hand in the strap at the withers, obviously used to the task.
Victor watched his shoulders rise and fall as he took a breath before he raised his free hand to signal his readiness.
The first few seconds were truly effortless, and when the bull thunked forward and twisted violently, Johnny went with it, even when his only contact was the hand in the strap and his ass on the saddle.
Victor had never seen Johnny in action, but now it was apparent why he’d made it into the big leagues. He could not be budged.
“Damn,” Skyler muttered. “That man can ride.”
“Yeah,” Victor said softly, too quiet for Skyler to hear over the music. There was no reason to be feeling so light-headed all of a sudden. The room was way too hot.
The bull was programmed to increase intensity the longer the ride lasted, so eventually it did manage to throw Johnny, but no one else had managed to get anywhere close to the length of Johnny’s ride, and the crowd’s hooting and hollering made it clear they were impressed.
Johnny jumped up from the mat and waved with his hat, face split with a shit eating grin.
He surely loved the attention. Victor would probably be hearing about this for the next week.
“That was incredible!” Skyler gushed as Johnny made his way back over and Victor handed him beer back. Johnny drank the rest of it in one long swig.
“Ain’t nothin’, really,” Johnny said with a shrug of his shoulders, looking very pleased with himself.
They had just deposited their empty glasses to a passing waitress when the music faded in the dance hall and the announcer said they were about to start Boot Scootin’ Boogie after a short lesson on how the line dance was done.
Johnny insisted Skyler join him, and Skyler was happy to oblige, but not without grabbing Victor’s wrist and hauling him along behind.
Victor was not much of a dancer, though Johnny already seemed to know the moves, so clearly he was no novice to line dancing or the Boot Scootin’ Boogie.
At one point Victor couldn’t figure out the steps so Johnny had to grab his arm and push him to the side along with everyone else.
By that point Victor had at least two bottles of beer sloshing around in his veins, so he wasn’t too upset about it.
After Boot Scootin’ Boogie, the venue played a string of songs for less structured dancing.
The line dancing had proven that Johnny was quick on his feet, and now given free liberty, Johnny seemed even more adept and enthusiastic.
Victor supposed if you had legs two miles long, some things came naturally to you.
Occasionally Johnny would reach out and take Skyler’s hand to spin her around, which got her smiling and laughing so hard it was difficult to know if she was drunk or just happy.
Seeing it made the room feel too hot again, so Victor decided he needed to go outside.
Weaving through women in tiny jean shorts and men in trucker hats, Victor finally found the exit.
Compared to the noise inside, it felt alarmingly quiet and cool.
Victor walked to the back to his truck, leaning up against the tailgate, pulling off his hat, and running a hand through his sweaty hair.
This far away, all he could hear was the faint thumping of bass and the incessant hum of crickets.
He was remarkably good at handling his shit.
Even as a teenager, Diego described him as “no-nonsense and competent to a fault”.
When his father was diagnosed with stage-four cancer, his mother fell into a depression so deep that it had been upon eighteen-year-old Victor to coordinate his care.
After his father died, he was in charge of putting together a wedding soon after.
For two years, Victor had handled it— until he couldn’t, and it all crashed and burned so disastrously that he was lucky his relatives still spoke to him.
Usually he was so convinced of his own invincibility that he refused to see the cracks until he felt them splinter through him like lightning.
That’s what this felt like. He was angry, sure, but it was that directionless anger, the kind he couldn’t explain or place, and it often gave way to deep, sucking despair.
It had felt so good to have Skyler around, even for a few days.
He felt like a person again around her because she already knew everything about him.
No one else knew shit, and he was too scared to tell them.
He was scared of Johnny more than anyone.
Johnny had the power to hurt him, and he didn’t even know it.
It was terrifying that someone could wield a weapon without the knowledge of its lethality.
Victor stood there for a while, trying to breathe and knock down bubbles of sadness like a sick game of Whack-a-Mole. He looked at his phone, just to give his hands something to do. When he glanced up, he saw Skyler walking toward him, boot heels clicking on the pavement.
“Jesus, Victor, you can’t just vanish without telling someone. We were looking all over for you,” she said upon approach, frowning. “Are you okay? What are you doing out here?”
“Just needed air,” Victor muttered, shoving his phone in his back pocket.
Skyler stared at him a moment, then rolled her eyes. “You’re such a man. Tell me what’s up.”
“Where’s Johnny?”
“Checking the bathroom for you. Don’t change the subject. Please tell me your mom didn’t call you or something.”
“No, it’s nothing. It’s just…” God, how could he even talk about this without sounding pathetic? But if he didn’t tell Skyler, there was no way he could tell anyone else. “You and Johnny seemed pretty close.”
Again, Skyler waited a moment before responding. “Is that what this is about? You’re jealous?”
“Fucking forget it,” Victor muttered, twisting around to head for the cab of his truck. Skyler grabbed his shirt and kept him there.
“Me having a good time with another man doesn’t mean anything. I’ve been trying to enjoy myself. Isn’t that the whole point of doing this?”
“Yeah sure.”
“So what’s the issue?”
“Because you as a married woman can do more shit in public with a man than I ever could,” Victor blurted, bristling with anger.
“How is that my fault?”
“It’s not your fault! I’m just not happy about it.”